


The Ends Justify the Means

by lymongrab



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, Death, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Gen, Graphic Violence, Pre-show, depictions of implied psychopathy, mature language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:32:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4671857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lymongrab/pseuds/lymongrab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gotham's best kept secret is also Oswald Cobblepot's worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue/First Encounter

“Well, you can move, I can already tell that much. You’re pretty in an unassuming kind of way. That’s good, men like a girl-next-door. Your resume is extensive, if somewhat…average. But you know I ain’t looking for no waitress.”

“I know ma’am.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The pixie-like girl hesitated momentarily before moistening her lips and responding to the question. “Lily. My name is Lily.”

“A pretty name.Tell me Lily, are you willing to do whatever it takes?”

“Whatever it takes to do what?”

“To claw your way to the top.”

“The ends justify the means.”

“You think you even have what it takes?”

“I know I do, ma’am.”

The glamorous older woman smiled to herself. “You got spunk, kid, I like that. You still gonna have spunk when I ask you to do certain things for me that aren’t exactly in the job description?”

“And what kind of things would those be, ma’am?” 

The club owner let a heavy silence fall between them, choosing not to answer the question, but instead to ask a question of her own. 

“You ever been in a fight before? Ever fire a gun?”

“Yes ma’am. My daddy was a boxer, taught me how to keep safe. And no ma’am, I’ve never shot a gun.”

“Alright. What I need is an adapter, a survivor, someone willing to be malleable to whatever the situation may call for.”

“I understand that ma’am. I’ve always been good at sink or swim.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Now tell me, Lily, you like girls…or boys?”

 

THREE MONTHS LATER

Oswald Cobblepot stood outside the back door of the club in the pouring rain. It was early evening, the dark sky quickly deepening in hue by the second, and he stood there, desperately hoping someone would come by and let him in. _Of all the days to forget an umbrella_ he thought, and the water soaked through his coat, gathered in the hollows above his cheekbones, beading and dripping down his nose, matting his hair. Surely someone would know that he was expected and let him in? It was his first day, they can’t have forgotten about him already…Or maybe this was some kind of test? Either way, he turned up the collar of his coat against his neck and decided to stand outside a bit longer, just in case.

He looked up from the water pooling around his feet just in time to see a redhead with a pixie cut wearing a beaten black trench coat and ridiculously high black patent leather heels come barreling toward him. Her umbrella was up and her head was down, protecting her theatrically made up face from the rain. With each second that she continued to rush toward him, it became more and more apparent to Oswald that the girl had no intention of stopping to navigate around him. This realization was a second too late and they collided, her head thumping into his chest, her balance immediately thrown off kilter due to the monstrous heels. She looked up, bewildered, into the face of the dripping wet man before her. Oswald gripped her arms, steading her just before she fell over completely. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry about that, thank you so much, I didn’t even see you there, I’m late, I’m in a huge hurry, I’m so so sorry.”

Oswald faltered for a moment, his brain taking a few seconds to play catch-up, finally calling out behind her, “Oh don’t worry about…” but the girl had already punched her code into the keypad and disappeared inside. _Well_ he grumbled silently, _there goes what was likely my only chance to get inside…_

Just has he was resigning himself to another soggy hour, the girl popped her head back out the door. “Hey, were you waiting for someone or something??”

“Oh, um, yes, I’m here to see Ms. Mooney. It’s my first day in her employ and I-“

“Aha! Okay you’re one of Fish’s new boys. They usually go through the front door and straight up into the office at the beginning of the night, but come in this way for now, and I’ll tell you how to get there from backstage.”

He hurried through the door and into a dim hallway, lit with red wall lamps. It took his eyes a minute to adjust to the lack of light, but once they did, he noticed the girl appraising him. 

“God, you're a real mess, you look like a drowned rat. This isn’t the kind of job where you ever want to be without an umbrella, you know.” She took the liberty of smoothing down his lapels and collar with her hands. A slight flush rose in his pallid face. “Follow me.” She turned on her heel and swiftly traversed the hallway. Oswald following close behind, they climbed a set of stairs, down another hallway, taking several twists and turns and down a rickety old cargo lift elevator. 

“So, are you a performer here at the club?” Oswald ventured tentatively.

“Ha! I wish. I came to Gotham hoping to get into the business, years of acting and singing and dance under my belt. We all did. But hey, what can you do?”

“So, er, what precisely do you do for Ms. Mooney?”

“Oh you know, this, that, charming the money out of men’s pockets, running the odd note across town for her, but mostly we’re just glorified waitresses. Although she hates it when we call ourselves that. We’re ‘walking art, a companion, a white hot spark in a dull life, a bon vivant, the embodiment of charm’” listing the last string of qualifiers with a voice affectation that was meant to be an imitation of Fish Mooney herself.

Oswald secretly agreed with all of the statements thinking to himself that he’d known her for all of five minutes and he already knew she was good at what she did. 

They finally arrived at a door marked **Green Room B** when she turned to him again, held up her hands and wordlessly mouthed “Wait here.” He could hear the hustle and bustle of several women inside. She returned a minute later with a small hand towel, and began to pat his coat dry. He took the towel from her and wiped his face and tousled his hair, attempting to smooth it back down with his hands.

“There, much better. Couldn’t go to Fish looking like that on your first day. Now if you go right down this hall and knock on the third door on the right, that’s the office. Everyone should be there already, so hurry!”

Before he could so much as thank her, she was gone, back inside the room. He folded the towel and placed it on the floor next to the door and quickly set off in search of the office.

—

“You’re lucky I have little planned for you this evening or your tardiness might have been an issue. Don’t let it happen again, Cobblepot.”

“No, of course not Miss Mooney.” Oswald offered up apologetically. Fish just rolled her eyes. 

“Anyway, tonight, I’ll have Butch show you around the place so you know where you're going when I ask you to get someone or something, as well as introduce you to the lead staff. Easiest day you’ll have on the job, so watch, listen, remember everything, and don’t fuck it up.”

Oswald trailed behind Butch, the larger man purposefully striding down hallway after hallway, pointing out this door and that door, stopping occasionally to introduce Oswald to the server shift lead, or the head bartender, or one of the three bouncers. Finally they went through a red leather padded swinging door, into the club itself. There it sprawled before them: beautiful, lush velvet, polished wood, gold candelabras, crystal chandeliers. On the stage, a five piece band played a funky piece, somewhere between swing and rock-n-roll. On the floor, girls ran hither and thither with trays of drinks, bottles of champagne, dressed in costumes of red silk, black tulle, and glossy feathers. Every seat was filled with elegant people, Gotham’s high rollers, investors, crooked politicians, and gangsters with their wives, or more often their mistresses, partaking in every kind of decadence. 

It was there he saw her from across the room, leaning over a stout graying man in a dark suit who was whispering in her ear. She laughed enthusiastically at whatever he’d said to her, her eyes twinkling, looking at the man like he was the only person in the world. Oswald knew that it didn’t matter what the man had said, that was the reaction that everyone got. That’s what they were really paying for, not the booze, the company. For the right price, anyone could be the only man in the world to the redheaded girl.

“Excuse me, Mr. Gilzean? Who’s that, over there?”

“That’s Lily. She’s one of our best girls. You stay away from the girls, you hear? They’re not for you. Not that they’d pay you any mind anyway. They’re only in it for the money. But really, don’t go messin’ around with Fish’s girls. That’s just asking for a heap of trouble for everyone.” 

At that moment, Butch looked up across the room and caught Fish’s eye, and she summoned him over. Butch took a moment to decide between the lesser of two evils, and decided that whatever his boss needed was more important than the kid. 

“I have some business to attend to, why don’t you find a place out of the way to sit and have a drink, on the house. Get a vibe for what we do here. I’ll be back.” And he strode across the room leaving the smaller man by himself. 

Oswald found an empty table for two in the back corner and sat, hanging his still damp coat on his chair. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and propping his chin on his hand, observed the goings on of the operation to which he was now a part of. 

After just a few minutes of this, a voice from just to his left asked, “And is there anything I can interest you in this evening sir?” He whipped around to see Lily standing over him, she, equally surprised, letting out a giggle. “Well if it isn’t Drowned Rat!” she teased, taking the seat opposite him. “Already slacking on the job, Ratty?”

“Oh, no, um, Mr. Gilzean said to wait for him because he had business and-“

“Relax, I’m being cheeky with you. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Oswald, Oswald Cobblepot.” He extended his hand and she took it, shaking it firmly.

“I’m Lily.”

“I know- I mean, I asked.” Realizing that the second bit was not less creepy than the first, he added the addendum of, “Because I wanted to thank you, for earlier.” 

“I see,” she intoned with a hint of amusement as she looked down at her hand and back up at him, causing him to realize that he had not yet let go of it. His eyes widened and he released her hand as if she’d just sent 1000 watts of electricity through it straight into his blood. 

“Why don’t I grab us a drink? What do you take?”

“Oh whatever really.” He replied, shaking his head nervously as she stood up.

“Don’t move, I’ll be back in two ticks.” She traipsed across the room, the feathers in her costume swaying in time with her hips like a metronome needle. 

“I won’t.” He said weakly, more to himself than to her. 

He studied her from afar. She had a certain strangeness in her countenance, like a ripple in a pond. There was the charming, fairy-like, girl-next-door façade, yes, but it only thinly veiled what was behind that, a demeanor not unlike that of a fox with a chicken in its line of sight. He knew this well, mostly because it was something he himself was. Behind the stuttering, bumbling, nervous buffoon act was 27 years of unadulterated rage and a ravenous thirst for power. He understood her because he was her. He also understood that insofar as she was concerned, he was the chicken. 

She was headed back to him, two short glasses in her hands. The electricity in his veins had yet to dissipate, he took a breath as she approached. 

“I hope you like gin, because its what I brought.” Placing one glass in front of him and one in front of herself, she sat once again. “So who are you Oswald Cobblepot? What kind of a name is Cobblepot anyway?” She leaned in across the table, and he caught the scent of her perfume. For a moment his mind swam, but he forced himself to focus. 

“Uhm, Ukrainian, actually. It’s Kapelput, but I’ve done a bit of…adjusting.

“Cobblepot is an anglicization? Interesting. So your parents were immigrants?”

“Ehm, yes, in a way. It doesn’t matter, really.” The edge in his voice stopped her line of questioning. “But yes, here I am, working for Fish Mooney at last.” The strange head bob of glee at the stating of this caused her to narrow her eyes in scrutiny. 

“You’re… not like Fish’s other boys. You're not here to knock heads together. They’re a bunch of jackals, dogs, begging for whatever they can get, but I can tell you won’t be content with table scraps.”

“Quite astute of you.” he said, his face twisting into a wry smile. So she could see through him as well? This was interesting indeed, though he sensed she was playing more than the majority share of her cards closer to her chest than she was leading him to believe. “I do also enjoy the knocking of heads.” Something glimmered in his eye, something more than danger. This unsettled the petite girl across from him, and she couldn’t decide if she liked it or not.

“Be careful.” Her tone turned suddenly serious and she looked him unflinchingly in the eyes. “I’m serious. These are not people to be trifled with. Fish Mooney is under the direct employ of Carmine Falcone, and if you screw with Fish, you screw with the king of Gotham himself.”

“Even kings are just men at the end of the day.” Oswald replied coolly. 

“If I were you, I’d quit tonight and never look back. It’s only bad news from here. You don’t want to be one of these people. I’m telling you this because I think I like you. And I really shouldn’t like you, but I do, so please, if you value your hide, scram while you can.”

Oswald leaned in towards Lily, mimicking her posture, trapping her small hands under his.

“I know what I’m doing. I know why I’m here, I’m no lost little boy. The seedy underbelly of Gotham is a game, a game I’m ready to play, a game I intend to win.” he growled, sending a shiver down her spine. His hands tightened around hers, squeezing them in a threateningly painful way. Perhaps she’d underestimated him, or perhaps he’d just confirmed exactly what she already feared. He wasn’t just danger. He was something a shade darker.

Slowly pulling her hands out from under his, she feigned nonchalance. “Suit yourself. It’s not my fault when you find yourself floating in Gotham Harbor with a bullet in your brain and no one to call your mama.” A moment of terse silence weighed down on the pair. She refused to let him know that he shook her, and let her gaze fall on him in the most blasé manner she could affect. Deciding to ease the tension at last, she side-eyed him with just the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. 

“Boxer?”

“Pardon?”

“You’re a bare fist boxer. Funny for a wiry guy like you, but I know a poorly healed knuckle fracture when I see one, and you’ve got more than just one. My papa was a bare knuckle fighter.” She quirked an eyebrow at him expectantly.

“Um, yes actually. But mostly by accident. When you grow up like I did, you learn how to take a punch. Eventually I wanted to learn how to throw one. I… don’t so much anymore. My mother, she worries.” At this, he rubbed the back of his neck, failing to meet her gaze.

“Don’t worry, all girls like a guy who listens to his mother.” With that, she downed what was left of her drink just as Fish Mooney herself approached the table. 

“I see you’ve been making friends with my new umbrella boy. Don’t you have somewhere to be baby girl?” Fish oozed, but Lily knew when the criminal was less than pleased, and decided it was best to take her leave. 

As she walked away, she looked over her shoulder, drawling out with a wink, “Nice to meet you, Oswald Kapelput” and vanished into the crowd once more.

“And as for you,” Fish leaned on the table with both hands, her long talons clicking impatiently on its surface as she bore down on her new employee, “don’t even think about it.”

—


	2. Rain or Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald runs into Lily while on an errand with Fish Mooney and things take a turn, but for the better or worse, neither of them know.

Oswald quickly got out of the car as it pulled up across the street from a line of grand brownstones and walked around to the back of the car to open the door for Fish. He opened the umbrella in his hand and held it over her as they crossed the street and climbed the stairs to one of the lavishly carved doors that lined the street. 

“I’ll be about an hour, go be a good boy and wait in the car for me, hm?”

“Yes Miss Mooney.”

As Fish was received by the sharply dressed man behind the door, Oswald meandered back across the road to the polished black car. It wasn’t actually raining yet, the umbrella had merely been a precaution, so he folded it back up and leaned it up against the side of the vehicle, doing the same with his lanky body, hands in his pockets. He stared out at the park they had pulled up next to, still lush and green, though the late september air was chill and a storm was brewing in the grey skies above. Something caught his eye amongst all the green, a girl in a red coat.

Lily sat on the park bench reading, but this didn't stop her from seeing Oswald before he took the seat next to her. 

“I love the smell of the air before a storm, don’t you?”

Oswald hmm’d in agreement, knowing that she wasn’t really talking about the weather. 

“I’d ask what you’re doing here, but I’m sure it has something to do with Judge Bam-Bam’s house being across the street. Didn’t realize he was in Falcone’s pocket these days, too.” She still hadn’t looked up from her book. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t know anything about that sort of thing, I just do what Miss Mooney—”

“Please. We both know that’s not why you’re working for her, I’d appreciate it if you’d drop the act, it’s exhausting to watch.”

Her unflinching honesty took him somewhat aback for a minute, and then he sighed deeply. 

“I’d say it’s exhausting to keep up, but it really isn’t. It’s like putting on a well tailored suit” he said satisfactorily. 

Finally closing her book and looking at him for the first time since he sat next to her she raised an eyebrow.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Just came by to say hello to my new friend… Fine, I saw you down here and I wanted to apologize.”

“For what precisely?”

“For what…happened the other night. I hope I didn't get you in trouble? And… I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

“Nah, no kinda real trouble. And kid, let me tell you, it takes a lot more than that to frighten me. I’ve seen some things, some real scary things, but you’re not one of them. Not yet.”

Oswald decided to take the “yet” as a compliment.  
“Besides,” Lily continued in her unaffected manner, “you have the right attitude if you wanna make it big. You have to be ruthless to be someone in this town. But a bit of advice? Don’t make it so obvious, or you’ll be out on the street with two shattered kneecaps before you know it. Play it close to the chest and you might actually survive.” Her tone suggested that she was possibly mocking him, but he couldn’t be sure. 

“You sound like you speak from experience.” Oswald was still further intrigued by this strange new acquaintance. 

“No. I’m just a waitress” she said brusquely, shoving her book into her handbag and standing abruptly.

“W-wait, I didn’t mean to offend you. I have a hour before Miss Mooney comes back. Walk with me?”

She sighed exasperatedly and turned to face him, weighing heavily on one leg, hand on hip. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him, as if he were some puzzle she was trying to solve.

“I’m deciding whether or not I want to tangle with you. You’re certainly going places, I just don’t know if they’re good ones or not.”

“Just a walk, that’s all. No shop talk even. Just… as friends.”

“You keep flinging that word around with an awful lot of abandon.”

“Fine.. as… as coworkers in a park together.”

“…Alright.”

she chose a path and began to head down it. In a few strides, Oswald was next to her. He proffered his arm, from which she recoiled, not with any kind of revulsion as much as with bafflement, as if she had no idea what to do with this offering, slight color rising in her cheeks. After a moments hesitation she took it, and they set off again at a leisurely pace. 

“You look very different… when you aren’t at the club.” She was wearing a deep red swing coat, little brown oxfords, and a dove grey scarf. Most notably, however, were the horn-rimmed glasses that rested on her face. Oswald couldn’t help thinking that she was almost…cute? _The woman’s versatile, I’ll give her that._

“What, did you think I dressed in sequins and feathers during the day?”

“That’s hardly what I meant. I’m trying to be nice to you, you know, why are you giving me such a hard time?” He said teasingly, a smile coming to his lips.

“I’ve met a lot of nice guys through the club, but never any good ones.”

“Well if that’s what you’re looking for,” he chuckled, “I hardly qualify. But something tells me that’s not really your style anyway.” His singsongy way of speaking had turned a few heads with that last line. 

Lily said nothing in response. She was hardly one to argue with the truth. 

“I noticed you were reading Ginsberg when I walked up. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a poetry kind of person.”

“Who are you to say what kind of person I am? I like Ginsberg. He can go from simple and mindful to manic and carnal within the space of a page.” she mused.

“You like that, manic and carnal?” Oswald turned his head and grinned down wolfishly at her. She continued starring straight ahead but she saw his expression in her periphery, and did her best to suppress a shudder. He felt it anyway.

Remembering their conversation from a few days prior, she decide to toy with him.

“So does your mother know what you do for a living?”

Oswald paled, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“She thinks I work in the restaurant business. It’s better that way. She’s very… caring.” He was picking his words carefully. He didn’t like to speak about his mother if he didn’t have to, it was too easy to risk giving away one of his weaknesses. “And you? what about your family? Would they approve of your _lifestyle_?” The last word dripped with sarcasm. 

“I don’t have any family. Well, at least not any I care to associate with anymore. My parents have been dead for years, and the foster situation didn’t exactly end well for anyone involved.”

Oswald could tell she didn’t want to continue answering this particular line of questioning. Neither did he for that matter. Just better to drop it.

“I suppose all people who end up in situations like ours have some kind of story. You don’t get into this business without being a bit frayed at the edges.”

Lily pulled away from from the thin man roughly, the ice in her eyes clearly visible as she stared at him, her nostrils flaring. 

“I’m not like you, I’m not in this situation because I aspire to be like these people. Don’t think for one second I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else with a fucking herb garden and a dog and kid or whatever. I’d kill for that boring shit. I really would, just to have an opportunity at such- such, safety. Such peace.”

“My dear, you hardly end up at Fish Mooney’s by accident. They don’t hire just anyone. The way I hear it, you have to do some things, some things most people aren’t willing to do to get a position at the club. I know you aren’t all you seem to be, you aren’t telling me everything, which is fair, but I’m not stupid. Even if it’s not what you wish you were, you’re a hustler just like the rest of us, you’re here for a reason.” Oswald’s face had darkened, his eyes glinted, and he spat the words at her through a sneer. “So why don’t you share with the class, hm? Why are you here, little bird? Money? Power? Sex? Penance? Revenge?”

“Love.”

“Love?” This had not been something he’d considered.

Lily sighed, clearly ruffled by her companions mercurial change of attitude, but resigned.

“I don’t have a choice. I have nowhere else to go. My brother, who I hadn’t spoken to in 8 years up until recently, got me the audition, and these people are my family now. You know what they say; It’s better to walk with a friend in the dark than alone in the light.”

Oswald softened, his eyes dropping to stare sheepishly at his feet.

“No, I’ve never heard that one before.”

Just then, the sky opened up, and a barrage of rain fell all at once, soaking them both to the bone. They each looked around wildly, attempting to find some kind of shelter. 

“Over there!” said Oswald, pointing to a large sign with a foot-deep awning over it. They ran through the storm, Oswald leading. 

“For a guy who’s job consists of 70% holding an umbrella, you never seem to have one!” Lily shouted after him, as she closed the distance between herself and the sign. Just as she was about to enter the small enclosure, a messenger on a bicycle rode right behind her. In an attempt to save her from a head on collision, Oswald reached out and grabbed her, pulling her under the awning. Lily suddenly found herself very close indeed to the strange man in the suit.

His hands gripping her upper arms, he pressed her to his body. She could smell his cologne, spicy, musky, something reminiscent of the old world struck her about the scent, like church incense. She slowly looked up to see his deep green eyes already staring down at her. They remained this way for several long seconds that seemed like lifetimes to them both. Finally, he lifted a hand to brush one of the several strands of wet hair stuck to Lily’s forehead to the side with a thin, pale finger, letting his hand continue to rest on her face. Still cradled to his chest, she could feel his heartbeat, as erratic as the wings of a young bird. Through his wet shirt, he felt the warmth of her hands.Breaking away at last, Lily took a step to the side, and they both looked away, unable to make eye contact. 

“Uhm, I’d better get home so I can get ready for work. It’ll be a bit more of a process now that I’m soaking wet” Lily gave a nervous giggle as she finished her excuse. “I’ll see you at the club tonight? You’ll be there, right?”

“Yes, yes I’ll be there. Wherever Miss Mooney needs me is where I am, you know how it is.” Oswald clasped his hands in front of him.

“Good. Then I’ll see you tonight.” She said, smiling an genuine smile for the first time since they’d met, and with a skip and a hop, she was off again, darting through the rain, away away away from him, the strange moment prior still burning in his mind. He looked at his watch, ten minutes to spare. Better get back to that umbrella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than the last, but trying to move things along. Chapter three should be up quicker than this one was. Enjoy. 
> 
> -M


	3. A Rose by Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily is another year older and has little to show for it. Except a cupcake and a dalliance with a dangerous man.

It always seemed to be raining in Gotham, unless it was snowing. It’s like the weather knew where it was and felt it was only appropriate to reflect the general state of the city’s affairs. So it was no surprise to Lily when this particular day in mid october was pouring rain. However, this particular day in mid october also happened to be her birthday. She did her usual totter over to the side door, but just as she was about to punch in her key code, she noticed a sign on the door. **Out of Order, Please Use Front Door**. She raised an eyebrow, but did as the sign commanded. 

Upon opening the front door into the bar area, she was assaulted with a chorus of the most out of tune version “Happy Birthday” she’d ever heard. Almost everyone was there. All the girls, the bartenders, the bouncers, even a couple of Fish's boys. She didn’t remember telling almost anyone about her birthday in the days leading up to it, but she had a suspicion. Mike, one of the bartenders was pouring out a shot for everyone, and Tash, the server shift lead, was unwrapping a large platter of homemade cupcakes. 

“Tash I made you _swear_ you wouldn’t tell anyone when I told you, for god’s sake!” Lily looked around self consciously. 

“Oh like that was ever gonna happen. Besides, your well-liked here. And no one was going to turn down an excuse for a free drink before shift. Now shut up and eat your cupcake.” There was no arguing with that. The tall blonde strode away to continue doling out the pastries. 

Lily approached the bar, cupcake in hand, and decided that a drink was a good idea. 

“Those shots ready or what?” She said saucily to Mac, a tall, lean man with skin the color of the sky on a moonless night, standing at his usual post behind the bar. He adjusted his bow tie and rolling his eyes, leaned over the bar at her. 

“Oh darling, that’s all Mike. He’s lead bartender tonight, I’m just support. Speaking of which, you know he’s got it for you, I don’t know why you’re not snapping up that tasty treat.” He looked pointedly at the other man behind the bar with him. It was true, Mike was good looking, chestnut brown hair, blue eyes, ridiculously fit. But something about the way he paraded himself around bothered Lily. Not to mention the fact that his head was positively full of straw, but she’d never say that to anyone. 

“Not my type, Mac.”

“What’s there not to be? I can’t see anything wrong with him, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t know… his teeth are too….straight. And, like, weirdly white. Also have you _seen_ the way he dresses out of uniform? That horrible belt buckle that looks like it cold brand cattle?”

“Cattle or not, I’d ride that cowboy all night long.”

“You can have him, then.”

“This is because you’re tangling with Bird Boy over there, ain’t it?”

Lily looked over to see that Oswald was, in fact, in attendance, standing uneasily at the end of the bar, alone. She quickly looked away before he caught her eye.

“Bird Boy?? I haven’t the faintest idea who you’re talking about.”

“Oh you know just who I mean. Some of the guys have started referring to him as Penguin because of, well, you know he’s not the most…normal looking fella.”

“What does that even mean? Normal looking? And for the record, I am _not_ tangling with him. I’m pretty sure the guy’s a sociopath to be honest. He’s here for a reason, you know?”

“Oh dear, one of those determined types. You know, the last one of those to roll through here was your brother, now look at him, big shot working for Falcone—”

“I’m having a nice day Mac, don’t ruin it by talking about my brother.”

“Surprised he didn’t come around to wish you well.”

“You shouldn’t be, he’s never given a fuck about me before, why would he start now? Seriously Mac, can we stop now please?”

“Hey now, just tryna tell you what everyone is saying behind your back.” With that, Mac floated to the other side of the bar, leaving Lily by herself, or as alone as one can be in a group of 20 or so people. Oswald took this opportunity to saunter over and lean on the bar just next to her.

“Hello there.” He chuckled, doing his strange little head bob. “Many Happy Returns and all that.” 

“Thanks Oswald. Say, I notice you’re uncharacteristically dry for such a rainy day.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve gotten much better about carrying an umbrella with me.” An awkward silence fell between them, Lily taking a small dollop of the frosting from the cupcake on her finger and putting it in her mouth, Oswald looking around uncomfortably, as if trying to not be caught doing something he shouldn't be doing. 

“Um, yes, I actually have something for you, just a small thing really” he rushed, and placed a single red rose on the bar next to Lily’s hand. 

“Oh… um, Oswald, that’s—”

“Well there, look what the cat dragged in! Penguin! How’s it going Bird Boy?” Mike was now leaning heavily on the bar across from where Lily and Oswald stood, a bottle of liquor with a pourer in one hand. 

Oswald’s eye twitched, his lips pursed.

“Hello, Michael. I’d _appreciate_ it if you’d call me by my name, which incidentally is Oswald and—”

“Relax Penguin, I’m just joking around.” Mike’s affected tone indicated that if he was joking around, it was at Oswald’s expense. “Hoowee! What do we have here?” Mike plucked the rose from off the bar. “I think Penguin has a little crush.” The blue eyed man contemplated the flower for a moment before snapping the stem in half and dropping the pieces at Oswald’s feet. “The lady’s not interested.”

“I think the lady can speak for herself.”

“Oh come on, no one likes a case of sour grapes!” Mike replied, eyeing the man across the counter from him with disgust, and proceeded to make a shooing motion with his hand. “Now fly away, birdie. Oh wait, that’s right, penguins can’t fly.” Laughing at his own joke, he turned to face Lily once more.

This was the final straw for the smaller man, who, with white knuckled fists in tight balls, stormed out of the room. 

“What the fresh hell was that, Mike?!” Lily hissed through gritted teeth.

“Just saving you the trouble is all. Now grab a drink, everything’s fine” Mike said with a smirk as he poured the last of the shots. “Hey everyone, come grab your drink, I’m doing a toast!” There was a minor bustling about as everyone grabbed a shot glass full of god only knows what concoction the handsome bartender had come up with this time, and then a hush fell over the little group. “To Lily, the loveliest new addition to our fucked up little work family.” A few people giggled. “Happy Birthday, babe.”

A resounding “To Lily” was heard from the rest of the group and they all downed their shots. She herself threw one back, and slamming the glass back on the bar, growled to Mike, “Don’t call me babe.” She got up to leave just as Tash was calling out to everyone to get to where they needed to be before shift started. 

—  
Oswald hovered behind Fish’s chair, a lanky shadow observing the criminal at work. Several high profile “clients” were seated at the table with her, engaged in a riveting conversation about tariffs on imported liquor. 

Just then, Lily traipsed over, feathers bobbing in time with her hips as she walked, like they always did, her plastic smile as dazzling as it was every night, in her hands a bucket of ice with a bottle of phenomenally expensive champagne sticking out of it. She placed this on the table and began the process of opening the bottle. Oswald noticed a bright red rose pinned into her short hair, his rose. She’d saved it from its unfortunate fate and apparently repurposed it. Fish looked up at the girl.

“That is quite the lovely bloom you’re wearing in your hair, my dear. What’s the occasion?” The club owner inquired, raising an eyebrow as she rested her chin on her hand.

“It was a gift.” Lily did everything in her power not to look at the pale shadow behind her employer’s chair. 

“From anyone special?” Fish teased.

“I should think so, Miss Mooney. Very special indeed.” With this, Lily simply could resist no longer and ventured a glance up at Oswald, who was staring at her intendedly, a slight color rising in his cheeks. This did not go unnoticed by Fish, who motioned for Lily to lean in.

“You watch yourself baby girl” Fish whispered in the girl’s ear, and giving her a warning look, dismissed her with a casual nod of her head.

As she strode away, Lily smiled in spite of herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. the next two will likely be short as well, but chapter six will be long and horrifically self indulgent. Also I really want to do more with Mac, not sure if it's going to happen in this fic or not, but I like him, and he deserves more attention.
> 
> Enjoy this corny piece of crap.
> 
> -M


	4. Runs in the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald finds out what the other part of Lily's job entails, and Lily is paid a visit by her brother.

Oswald waited with Fish on the sidewalk as Butch drove the black car with the tinted windows up to the curb in front of the club. Oswald opened the back door for Fish, and then went to his usual place in the passenger seat. However, as the elegant club owner was about to slide in, she noticed someone already sitting in the back of the car.

“Hello there, Mooney.”

“Victor… glad you decided to join us after all.” She oozed, but all three men in the car could tell that Victor Zsasz’s presence nettled her. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Victor raised both hands in mock innocence.  
Fish closed the door behind her as she slid in next to the strikingly pale man, but Butch kept the car exactly where it was.

“Where the hell is that girl?” Fish said with a touch of impatience. At that moment, the door reopened and, much to the surprise of Oswald but no one else, Lily poked her head in.

“Sorry I’m late,” she rushed, “train from midtown was delayed.” She looked up to see Victor sitting next to her boss, and a wave of disgust washed over her elven features. 

“You.”

She shut the door and went around to the other side of the car and opened the door next to him. 

“Move. You aren’t even supposed to be here, you have to sit in the middle.” Victor scooted in next to Fish, and Lily got in the vehicle at last. As they took off, Victor stared straight ahead and continued to smirk. 

“What, can’t manage a proper ‘hello, how are you?’ for your own brother? I came all the way down here from uptown just to see my baby sister off on her first kill.” His lips curled over his teeth in a cruel smile, as if the pain it caused Lily to be reminded that they were related brought him great satisfaction, like rubbing salt in a wound. 

“First of all, greeting you properly would imply that I’m happy to see you, or even just indifferent about it, which we both know I’m not. Secondly I’m only 20 minutes younger than you, you fucking jackwagon, and third of all, it’s not my first kill, you know that.”

“Practicing on sticky-fingered busboys in the alley behind the club hardly counts.”

As the two were going at one another in the backseat, this odd news was hitting the lanky man in the passenger seat like a ton of bricks. _The brother_ he realized, _the estranged brother who had gotten her the audition with Fish in the first place was Victor Zsasz? Lily was really Lily Zsasz?_ No wonder she’d never told him her last name, with such a reputation attached to it. 

“I got you a little present for the occasion.” Victor had been holding a sleek black box in his lap, and he took this opportunity to hold it up to his sister. “Go ahead, open it up.” She undid the metal latch and lifted the lid to find a handgun and a silencer embedded in the foam casing within. “You know what that’s for?” Victor said pointing to the silencer, cocking his head and raising the fleshy mounds where his eyebrows should have been with a bemused smile.

“I know what a silencer is you abominable asshole.”

“Better an asshole than a professional slut.”

“Better a slut than a fucking Psychopath.”

“Careful now, they say psychopathy runs in families.”

Oswald couldn’t believe he was hearing the first-rate seductress and the city’s most infamous hit man bickering like kids.

“Now now, play nicely, children.” Fish raised both her hands, motioning for silence. “I can barely hear myself think. Victor, please stop trying to rile up my girl, this job is too important, she needs to keep a clear head. Lily, Victor is here for…security.”

“You know Lil, just incase you can’t get the job done.”

“Shut the fuck up you eyebrow-less twat.”

Fish sighed with frustration.

“Focus! Please. Now, Lily, do you remember how we planned it?”

“Yes Miss Mooney. I shoot him in the knees so he can’t get away, and then wait for you to come in before I finish him. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to do it yourself, though.”

“If he hits the panic button before we get there, we’ll only have about a minute and a half before the GCPD show up in force. You have to be the one to do it, Lily, you’ll be closer to him, you’ll have more time… What, you haven’t developed feelings for him, have you? I know it’s been an involved ensnarement.”

“Ugh, for that mook? Absolutely not.”

“Good. Then prove it.”

“Yes Mama.”

“Now, use the silencer when you hit the valet when he opens the door for you. That way you can leave it unlocked for us, but the councilman himself won’t hear the shot. I can’t wait to send this fool’s head to Maroni in a box. Trying to use his connections to shut us down. This is why you never cross someone you’re in a business agreement with. You ready baby girl?”

Lily took the gun out of the box, followed by the silencer, and secured the latter to the former. 

“Very pretty” She mused, as she appraised the pistol in her hand. 

“See? Don't say I don't know you” said Victor with a grin.

“Do **NOT** even start with me, you bag of fried dicks—” 

“AHEM.” Fish brought the twins attention to the fact that Butch had parked the car in front of a beautiful townhouse. Lily narrowed her eyes and jutted her chin at Victor in a true display of childish indignation, put the weapon in her coat, and got out of the car. The impish girl climbed the stairs and rung the bell. As Lily disappeared inside, Fish spoke. “And now, we wait.”

Several minutes of silence passed. Butch stared out the windshield, lost in thought, Fish rested her eyes, preparing. Victor picked at his nails with a pocket knife, slouched sullenly in the seat next to Fish. Oswald sat awkwardly, processing everything that was happening. 

Lily was certainly more than a waitress. She was being used to honeypot high profile men that Fish wanted dead or spied on? She was carrying out hits, killing people? Oswald was simultaneously uncomfortable and impressed. Lily certainly _had_ been playing her cards close to the chest. The twin sister of Victor Zsasz, out killing people for Fish Mooney. Well at least they were finally on equal footing. For now. 

Fish’s phone beeped, breaking the silence.

“It's time. Boys?” She gesticulated with her hand towards the house. Oswald got out and opened the door for her, opening the umbrella over her head as they walked up to the door, Butch and Victor hanging back a few steps, guns ready. 

They opened the door to find the valet dead on the floor, a perfect hole between his eyes, the blood pooling around his head like some kind of infernal halo. Fish peered down at the corpse with mild annoyance, and carefully stepped around the puddle oozing from his head. The others followed suit. They could hear screams issuing forth from the next room. 

As they rounded the corner into the parlor, a middle aged gentleman, greying at the temples, was in a crumpled heap on the floor a few feet in front of Lily, who’s back was to them. He was bleeding and moaning.

“Darling why? Please don’t do this, you’re a sweet girl at heart, I know it.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Jonathan. I’m not a girl, I’m a woman. But thanks all the same.”

“Please, what do you want, tell me what you want, I’ll give you anything, just spare my life!” The man was panting through the pain, his voice strained. 

“If I wanted something, I would have just asked for it, I wouldn’t have had to shoot you. Poor old fool, you would have given it to me, wouldn’t you?”

At this point Fish took her place next to Lily, Oswald a step behind them, Butch and Victor flanking the two women. 

“Fish Mooney! You bloodthirsty harpy, I should have known you were behind this. Is this about that squalid little bar you call a club?” the man spat at the woman towering over him.

“Tsk tsk, now Councilman, is that any way to talk to someone who has your life in their hands?” She clucked her tongue and wagged a finger tauntingly at the man on the ground. 

Oswald only peripherally noticed this taking place. He was too busy staring at Lily. She wasn’t dressed like she was at club, or like she had been the day at the park; no, this was someone different all together. She wore black suede heels, deep garnets in her ears, and a white silk cheongsam that hit just above the knee and showed off her curves beautifully. He could only see her from behind, but even so, he deeply appreciated the view. Who was this person, this murderous, beautiful creature? Certainly not the soft and kind, if a bit jaded, girl he’d met at the club. No, this was a weapon. _Now this_ , he thought to himself, _is a woman._

“It’s in poor taste to try and undermine a business partner,” Fish said “and Salvatore Maroni needs to learn that. We’re sending him a little message. Nothing personal, Jon.”

She looked at Lily.

“It’s time to go, Lily.” 

Gun still pointed directly at him, legs akimbo, Lily looked down at the struggling man.

With panicked eyes and shaking hands, the man turned his gaze from the chic criminal to the young woman standing next to her. He could see his own reflection in her glassy eyes. She stared at him, unblinking.

“Goodnight, Baby.” 

And with that, she shot him clean through the head, his lifeless body falling with a dull thud to the floor. 

She turned around to face the little group, a spray of blood streaked across the front of the simple, yet fine dress, the bright red a jarring contrast against the snow white silk, gun still in hand, now lowered to her side. Her eyes were ice, a faint smile touching the corners of her mouth. Victor smiled savagely back at his sister. Oswald on the other hand was speechless. He stared at her in awe, slack jawed. Lily noticed a few droplets of blood on her cheek and lips, smearing the stains on her face with the back of her hand, slowly licking the ones on her lips away with a dart of her little pink tongue like a kitten with milk in its whiskers. 

At this, Oswald’s eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, and it was everything that he could do to keep composure. Until now, she’d been a mere amusement, a puzzle, someone with a secret, challenging him to wheedle it out of her. She’d been to him what a mouse is to a cat, just before the cat snaps its little neck. Now, things were different. This was an entirely incomparable feeling. This was something new, something he didn’t quite understand. His blood was fire and his head spun. He pressed his lips together in a wan smile and began to laugh softly to himself.

“Something funny, Oswald?” Fish turned to him sharply.

“No ma’am. I just enjoy when people get their due.”

“So do I Oswald, So do I. Zsasz!” To this prompt, both Lily and Victor turned to face the beautiful underboss. 

“Yes?” They said in perfect unison, subsequently turning to look at one another quizzically. Fish jerked her head, momentarily taken aback by the odd address, but then replied coolly.

“I meant Victor.” She nodded towards the dead man on the ground as she began to turn away to leave the room. “His head.”

Victor started towards the man, pulling out a wicked looking knife of about 5 inches.

“My pleasure.”

—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly loved writing this chapter, expect Lily to go darker from here.
> 
> I also know the origin story I gave Lily and Victor isn't canon, but in canon Victor doesn't even meet Oswald until much later when he's already one of the major kingpins of Gotham, so since the show already decided to break canon, I don't feel too bad about doing it in the show universe. 
> 
> That being said, I have a lot of feelings about my evil little eyebrowless muffin. 
> 
> \--
> 
> Special thanks to Matt Forgit, the customer who sent a letter to my work including a string of profanities such as "Jackwagon" and "bag of fried dicks" for inspiring this chapter. (And yes, that really did happen.)
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> -M


	5. Precious, Suspicious, and Charming, and Vicious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the hit, and some sound advice.

Lily leaned against the wall under the awning, staring into the black of the night. The raindrops danced in the thin sliver of light from the floodlight that illuminated the back door of the club. Her arms wrapped around her body, she willed herself not to shiver, her face a mask of concentration and deep thought. Although she heard the door open and close, she chose not to acknowledge who ever had come through it. The figure stood next to her, silently. The only sound to be heard was the steady patter of the rain hitting the pavement. 

“I see you like to come out here to escape the tumult of inside for a few minutes as well.”

Oswald turned to Lily, who still refused to speak, staring straight ahead. Realizing he was getting nowhere with words, he sighed softly. He then noticed the goosebumps covering the petite girl’s skin, the suppressed shivers running through her body, the feathers on her costume trembling lightly. He obligingly took off his coat and holding it open, raised an eyebrow at her. She finally succumbed, shifting her body enough that Oswald could drape the coat over her bare shoulders. She immediately reverted to her cross-armed pensive position, but finally she spoke.

“I should have told you about Victor.”

Oswald knew this had been coming, but after three days of Lily avoiding him like the plague, not speaking so much as a word to him, he wasn’t expecting it to happen so bluntly.

“What’s yours is yours, I’m not one to pry. Whether or not you choose to share is your prerogative.”

“No, it’s not. I put you in danger. I put everyone in danger just by talking to them, you have a right to know.” Her eyebrows furled slightly with frustration. “I don’t tell most people for the obvious reasons. But with you it was different. Clearly, you of all people wouldn’t have cared. But I just… didn’t want you to think that my only strength came from the fact that my brother was Gotham’s most famous psycho. I wanted you to see that I could hold my own. That I was worth more than the family name. It was idiotic and… weak.”

“After what I saw the other day, I assure you, you have more than proved you can hold your own” he snickered, his face holding a bemused expression.

“Maybe it does run in the family after all.”

“You and your brother are very different people, Lily.”

“Are we though? All those people in there? All those people who I call my friends, none of them know. They’re all going about their lives, like it’s any other day, like everything is like it always is. They all treat me the same way they always do, but none of them know. None of them knows how different the world is now.”

Biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling, she fought the emotions welling up inside her. Oswald knew that no amount of small talk, no amount of casual reassurance would help this situation. He decided to offer her something he rarely afforded anyone: honesty.

“You’re right. They don’t know. But I wouldn’t let it bother you. It means you have the upper hand.”

Her face softened. These weren’t the words she wanted to hear, or even the words she needed to hear, but she knew that Oswald was genuinely trying for her, something, she got a sense, that he rarely did for people in ernest. 

“You know what the worst part is? I liked it. When I saw the light go out of his eyes, I liked it because I felt powerful. Not like the kind of subversive power you get by letting others think they have the control, like I do here at the club. Something different. Complete and outright dominance.”

“It looked good on you.”

“What?” Lily turned to look at Oswald for the first time since he’d joined her. 

“The dominance… and the blood.” He looked at his feet and chuckled softly to himself. She pursed her lips, trying her best not to smile at the strange compliment. Fiddling with something in his pocket distractedly, he continued. “You’re not alone, you know. Fish clearly sees you as one of her flock, and even Victor seemed proud of you.” He lifted is head to meet her gaze to find she was already staring at him with great intensity. They locked eyes. “And me. You can always come to me, if you’d like. If I can help.” 

Lily took a step closer to him, shutting her eyes for the briefest moment, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue. Opening her eyes once more, an entirely different sentiment glittered in them than in the previous moment. She looked up at him through her lashes and parted her lips to speak, only to be abruptly interrupted by a man bursting through the door behind them. 

“Hey! There you are Penguin! Gilzean’s inside, been looking for ya.”

Oswald whipped his head around to face the man, his expression darkening by the second.

“You know I don’t like to be called that!” He spat back, completely disregarding his fellow lackey’s message. It was lost on its target though, as he was already disappearing back through the door. Oswald continued to stare after him, chest heaving with rage.  
“Hey.” Lily spoke softly, trying to get his attention, but the pale man’s eyes continued to stare after his oppressor, boring holes into the steel door. “Hey now!” She grasped the lapel of his waistcoat in her left hand, and placed her other on his cheek, gently turning his face towards her. She looked at him, sympathetically, almost maternally. “He’s no one, head full of air. And he’s going to keep calling you that as long as you keep reacting that way, they all will.” Oswald’s eyes narrowed.

“So what do I do? Ignore them like it’s grade school?” he said with mild distain.

“Absolutely not. If you can’t get them to respect you, get them to fear you. Embrace the name. The next time it happens, turn to them with your best crazy eyes and toothy grin and say ‘Yes, gentlemen?’ Own it. Use it as armor. Then they can’t use it against you.”

Oswald considered this for a minute, apparently liking the idea, as the indignation in is eyes was clearly fading.

“Also, remind them that you’re not ‘Penguin.’ You’re ‘ _The_ Penguin.’”

She gave a sly smile, and grasping both of his lapels, gently pulled him towards her as she rose up on the balls of her feet. Leaning into his ear, she whispered, “Impress me.” And with that, she let him go and walked past him back into the club, his jacket still around her shoulders. He stood there, momentarily frozen in thought, speechless. In two words, she’d given him the best motivation there was, for Oswald was incapable of backing down once a challenge  
was put forth. Lily knew this, which is exactly why she’d done it. 

Now there was only to wait and see what became of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one because the next one is going to be a bowl of self-indulgent, romantic mush. 
> 
> The title is a reference to this song (which quite frankly is basically the Lily Zsasz theme song):  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FcA7eQ62wRg
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> -M


	6. Like Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve at Fish Mooney's proves more interesting than previously assumed.

Christmas eve, the only night of the year that Fish Mooney’s was closed. The one night that most of the club’s important patrons were forced to spend with their families, leaving the few sad folks alone in a bar on Christmas eve to get sloppily drunk. “More trouble than it’s worth” Fish had always said. So instead, the tradition of the staff holiday party continued on. Fish would call in the house band, and let the staff of the club have free reign over the open bar under the condition that they didn’t drink her out of house and home. The one night of the year when the bartenders wore something other than their customary red dinner jackets, the baby girls were just girls, the bouncers retired their hardened scowls, and Fish’s boys were allowed to interact socially with the rest of the staff. Something about the magic of the club being peeled away was magic in and of itself. 

It was late afternoon, and the grey light from the outside world filtered into the club through the open doors of the loading dock, the band moving their equipment from their van onto the stage. Fish sat at the bar, sipping on a cocktail, talking some kind of shop with Butch who was standing next to her, listening to whatever she was saying intently. A little further down the bar, Oswald sat with several ledger books, doing inventory of the booze, getting ready to place a liquor order so that after tonights devastation on the bar, the club wouldn’t be totally dry when it reopened for business the next day. The few members of the staff that were getting a couple of extra time-and-a-half hours helping to set up, tittered to one another with excitement, the air crackling with an electric energy the way it only could before a blowout of a party. 

Oswald did his best to concentrate, but found himself distractedly overhearing the conversation happening at the other end of the bar. 

“Why Pepper? Because I don’t want to have to spend any kind of effort planting it is why. Besides, the punk owes me money. Two birds, one stone.” Fish held up two fingers with a flourish. 

“I’ll wrap it up in a bag of angel dust; getting Pepper to take it from one of the boys will be a breeze.”

“Just make it happen, the sooner the better. The death of the Waynes leaves a gaping hole in the hierarchy of Gotham, the sooner the public eye is turned away from it, the sooner it can be…filled.”

“Consider it done.”

Fish pulled out a four-strand pearl necklace, or what had once been a five-strand pearl necklace but had undergone some serious wear and tear, and slipped it into Butch’s pocket. 

“And what exactly did you see, you eavesdropping little rat?” Fish said cooly, turning to Oswald, who had no idea how she’d seen him staring in the first place.

“N-nothing, Miss Mooney.”

“…Good.”

—

By the time Lily got to the party, it was already in full swing. She’d left her coat and bag in the room usually used as a coat check at the club, though currently it was housing a particularly handsy couple looking for some private time. She wandered slowly into the main space of the club, taking everything in fully. The tables near the stage had been cleared to the sides to make room for a dance floor, multicolored christmas lights were strung along the bar and the mezzanine rails in a cheeky attempt at holiday festivity. The band played an up-tempo little jazz number, the muffled trumpet yowling loudly. 

Casually making her way to the bar, she was spotted by Mike. From across the room he leered at her, and leaning over to his oily crony of a friend, Nick, who was a barback, and whistled low, muttering in Nick’s ear.

“Would you look at those legs?”

“Yeah, it almost makes up for the fact she ain’t got no tits.”

Mike shoved the smaller man aggressively, and forced the beer he was holding into his friends hand. 

“I’ll be back. Or maybe not.”

“Don’t waste your time, man. You know she only has eyes for the Bird Boy.”

At this, Mike whipped around, staring menacingly at Nick.

“You think Penguin is a problem for me?” Cooling down slightly, Mike mumbled, “What do you even know anyway, fuckin’ blockhead” before strutting away towards Lily. 

Approaching her from behind, he jolted her out of her reverie.

“Well, don’t you look like something else.” The broad shouldered man sauntered up to her. He wearing dark jeans, a mussed slate grey button up, and a blazer, as well as, of course, the World’d Tackiest Belt Buckle™, at which no one was surprised about its reappearance. Lily eyed him, trying her best to mask her clear revulsion. “Why don’t I buy you a drink, babe.” He placed an order to the man behind the bar, some poor independently contracted wretch stuck working on Christmas eve.

“Drinks are free, Mike” she said with mild annoyance, “and for the last time, I’m not your babe.”

The temporary bartender placed two drinks in front of the pair.

“But you could be.” 

Lily shot him the mother of all withering glares.

“Come on now, its the season of good will and cheer. How about a charity bang?”

“Sorry, I’m not that kinda philanthropist.” She turned away from him, staring at the colored bottles reflecting behind the bar.

“Alright, be that way. But you know where to find me.” Mike gave this parting shot in such a tone as suggested he thought she might actually seek out his attentions, turned, and walked across the room to harass someone else. Before Lily could even get her hands on the drink, Mac had swooped in and grabbed it.

“Aaaand I’ll be taking that.”

“Oh my _god_ why do all you people keep forgetting that drinks are free?! You can get your own!”

“Darling, we’re bartenders, drinks are always free. That’s not why I do it” Mac drawled. “Anyway, I see your eternal mission to traumatize any attractive person who shows interest in you is succeeding.”

“If by traumatize you mean turn down his blatant and crass proposition for what was sure to be disappointing sex, then yes. You’d be right.”

“In that case, he may need some trauma counseling. And I think I know just the man to do it.” Mac turned towards where Mike was flirting with one of the new hires, a pretty little brunette, and drink in hand, locked onto his target. “Wish me luck and maybe we’ll see a Christmas miracle yet.” Lily and Mac kissed one another on the cheek, and with a “Ta”, he was off to conquer. Lily found herself sitting alone once again, at the very end of the bar. 

Across the room, Oswald stood behind Fish’s chair as her employees came to wish her cheer on the holiday, some even thanking her with small gifts. She sat like a sultan receiving tribute, and the spindly man behind her watched with wonderment. 

“Ahem.”

Oswald was brought back to earth by the sound of the crime lord clearing her throat vexedly. He realized that was his cue to refill her empty glass of wine from the bottle that rested on the table. As he leaned in next to her to do so, she suddenly hooked her finger under his collar, murmuring into his ear.

“Penguin, can you dance?”

Flinching ever-so-slightly at the name, he paused, choosing his words carefully, and answered.

“I dance a little. My mother… she’s very… old fashioned. She thought it was important.”

The elegant woman released him from her grip.

“She’s right, it is important. Dancing is like fighting, but without a winner, just for the game of it.” Changing demeanor suddenly, Fish sighed heavily, almost defeatedly. “Personally, Penguin…I think you’re a strange little man.” She scrutinized him askance, making a face like she’d just smelled something unpleasant. “But you see that girl over there?” She pointed to Lily, sitting by herself at the bar. “She likes you. And I need her to be happy. Happy employees mean a job well done.” Oswald knew she wasn’t talking about Lily’s work at the club. “So you’d best be going over there and asking her for a dance now.” Fish made a piqued waggling gesture in Lily’s direction with her fingers. 

Oswald was a bit surprised by the command, but with an amused smile to himself, and a quiet “Yes Ma’am,” he began to make his way across the room. He approached the bar, a little further down than where she was sitting, and hailed a bartender, ordering two coups of champagne. As he waited, he appraised the pixie-like girl appreciatively from afar. She was wearing a little black trapeze dress with cap sleeves and glittery gold maryjane heels. It certainly did show quite a bit of leg, but this was the opposite of a problem in Oswald’s mind. 

Finally receiving the drinks, he took a breath, and made his way over to her. Placing one coup in front of her, he took the seat next to her, facing her, but saying nothing. He sipped at his drink silently, watching her, a sly smile on his lips. Lily breathed a quiet laugh and lifted the drink. 

“Maybe I’ll actually get to drink this one.”

“Pardon?”

“Second drink of the night that someone’s brought to me, but the last one was carried off by a sexually frustrated bartender.”

“I see. Well I’ll be sure to beat them off if anyone comes for this one.”

They both laughed nervously. 

Lily noticed that Oswald was wearing his usual suit, but it was a bit rumpled as if he’d been in it all day. She then realized that he probably had been in it all day, as he’d likely been here, with Fish, planning the evening’s revelry. His burgundy silk bow tie was slightly askew.

“Here, let me get that for you.” Putting down her glass, she reached over to straighten it out. Oswald’s face and ears reddened, but he decided to make his move. As her hands finished adjusting the offending article of clothing, he caught one of them and held it in his own. She looked up to find him staring at her ardently. For a moment it seemed as if everything in the room had slowed to a crawl, and she was completely lost in the peculiar man’s fathomless green eyes. After a moment, everything seemed to catch back up to speed, and a mischievous glimmer found its way into Oswald’s gaze.

“Dance with me.”

“I’m sorry…?”

“Dance with me.” He repeated the statement with such affirmation, she found herself unable to argue. He helped her off the stool, and lead her to the dance floor where several couples already moved to the music. The band began a much slower number, and as the singer trilled the first few lines, Lily recognized it as a familiar pop song being played as a saucy New Orleans style jazz dirge. Oswald took her waist, and hand in hand they began to sway in time to the song. 

“Well well, Cobblepot, you’re full of surprises.”

“I’m nothing if not a collection of hidden talents” he replied with sarcasm, pulling her closer as the music crescendoed. Their bodies pressed against one another causing the color to rise in Lily’s cheeks. She calmed her nerves, and feeling the warmth and sturdiness of his arms around her, allowed herself to melt into him. Resting her cheek on his shoulder as they continued to sway, she breathed in his familiar scent. 

“You smell of incense” she sighed in hazy contentment. 

“What was that?”

“Church incense. You smell of church incense.”

“Ah. Well, that would make sense.”

“Hm?”

“I take my mother to church nearly every day. Orthodox prayer and all that.”

“You? Go to church?”

“With my mother, yes.”

“And what do you pray for, Oswald?” she whispered coquettishly. 

“I don’t. There’s only one God, and he can’t be found in any church.”

“Just in dark alleys and night clubs?”

He smiled. She understood. 

“Precisely.”

They stopped speaking as the tempo lulled. Oswald buried his face into the exposed crook of Lily’s neck, inhaling deeply the scent of her perfume. A low, guttural growl, a downright primal snarl, escaped his lips, sending a shiver down her spine.

“What, are you going to eat me up Mr. Wolf?” she teased. Looking up, she met his gaze, a hard, hungry glint in his eye. He leaned in.

“Would you like that?” He rasped, his grip on her suddenly tightening. “I’m sure you’d be delicious.” His lips brushed her ear, and he felt her tremble. She let go of his hand, placing hers on his chest, pressing herself against him. With his now freed hand, he traced his fingers lightly along the curve of her neck, leaving goosebumps on her skin in their wake. 

As the song ended and everyone clapped, the two remained entwined in one another’s embrace, staring at each other, completely lost to the rest of the world. As Oswald made a move to close the space between their faces, Mac walked by, making the unceremonious announcement of “LEAVE ROOM FOR JESUS” just loud enough so that it didn’t seem like he was shouting, but several other couples turned around to look at Lily and Oswald. This sudden influx of unwelcome attention caused them to spring apart. 

Lily laughed, genuinely, wholeheartedly, and taking Oswald by the hand, led him back to the bar. Six glasses of champagne and three dances later found a red-faced Oswald telling some story, gesturing emphatically with his hands, and Lily doubled over in laughter. Just then Fish’s voice came through the microphone, filling the room. 

“Alright, ladies and gentleman. The witching hour is upon us. With that, I wish you all a joyful holiday and a lovely night.” Cheers rose from the staff, and people began to filter out of the club. Lily grabbed her belongings, her companion his grey overcoat and umbrella, and they made their way out to the frigid sidewalk. 

“Let me walk you home.”

“I live in midtown, and I’m in heels.”

“Fine, let me ride the train with you home.”

“I’m perfectly capable of riding the train to midtown, I’m not _that_ drunk.”

“It’s midnight! Who knows what kind of scoundrels are out there looking to carry you off! This is Gotham after all” he jested, going so far as to pick her up and swing her around as she shrieked and laughed, and gently set her back down. She took a step closer to him, sobering.

“Oswald, you watched me shoot a man in the head in cold blood. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can. And I respect you immensely for it. But that’s not why I’m asking.”

Lily smiled softly, lowering her eyes.

“If you want to escort me home, I won’t say no.”

“Good, because I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.” He smiled that familiar smile, lips pressed together firmly, that flash of mischief in his eye. Lily wrapped around Oswald’s arm, they began to meander in the direction of the nearest train stop. 

—

Oswald gently shook his small inamorata awake, as she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder at some point during their journey home. Sleepily she looked up at him.

“This is your stop, dear.”

“Hmmmm.” She attempted to nuzzle back into his shoulder.

“Come on, up we go now.” He helped her to her feet and she was finally able to shake off the grogginess of intoxication that was gripping her. 

As they walked down her street, fingers interlaced, it began to snow lightly. The white flakes clung to Oswald’s hair, a sharp contrast with the black of his tresses. The coating of frost glimmered in the streetlight. _Like stars_ , Lily thought to herself. They finally slowed to a stop in front of her apartment. Oswald took her hands in his.

“Thank you, for humoring me with your time.”

“Oswald, please—”

“Please what?”

“You don’t have to say things like that. Like you don’t know exactly what I’m feeling or thinking. I know you do. Just stop. Stop pretending.”

A silence fell.

“I’m sorry I—”

“I didn’t mean to—”

They both spoke at once, and then dissolved into nervous laughter.

“Oswald, I…”

At a loss for words, she took him by the coat lapels and kissed him fervently. After a moment, she broke away and looked to his face for a reaction. Blinking in surprise, he stood completely still for approximately 4 seconds before grabbing her by the waist and kissing her again, fiercely, ravenously. He held her to him, pinning her body to his. She tangled her fingers in his hair, kissing him hard, anything she could do to get herself closer to him. At last they split apart, both of them panting softly, foreheads touching, their breath rising in small white clouds in the frozen night. Placing a hand on her face, the thin man leaned in once more. He kissed her again, this time tenderly, softly, conveying every amorous intent in his heart. 

At last she spoke. 

“I have half a mind to take you inside and screw you silly.”

He inhaled sharply, his eye twitching and the back of his neck prickling with heat.

“And what is the other half of your mind saying, exactly?”

“That I’m a bit drunk and we should probably wait until next time.”

“Ah.” Oswald looked at the ground disappointedly, but he understood. “Until tomorrow then?” He said taking her hand and planting a kiss on the back of it, a true gentleman. 

“Tomorrow.” She turned and walked to the door of the building, looking over her shoulder once she was there to see him still standing and the end of the walk, staring after her. “And Oswald?… Merry Christmas.” She slipped inside, leaving him alone, bewildered, in the falling snow. He smiled as he finally turned away, opening his umbrella and drifting down the street into the snowy night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEXUAL TENSION THE MUSICAL PART 2
> 
> ...
> 
> I'm sorry.
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, this is the song they dance to if you're interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sB6HY8r983c)
> 
> Writing this chapter was like gorging myself on an entire cake. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
>  
> 
> -M

**Author's Note:**

> I know no one likes OC x Popular character fics because its just basically self-insertion fan-wank that makes excuses for itself, but as I said on tumblr, this is more of an exercise in character development for me as a writer than anything else. First of all I hate het ships (neither Oswald nor Lily identifies as het so technically its not a het ship but you get what I mean), and secondly no one likes a Mary-Sue, so my goal for this piece is to write a character good enough that other people actually don't hate her, and to write a relationship interesting enough that /I/ actually don' hate it. 
> 
> Wish me luck.
> 
> -M
> 
> **By the by, The bare fist boxing is a reference to original, silver age canon. Apparently Penguin can canonically match Batman in hand-to-hand combat because he's a fuckin baller.


End file.
